


Crush

by RittaPokie



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Blowjobs, First Kiss, Mutual Pining, Other, awkward first time together, bookstore/cafe au, handjobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-13 09:49:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19248733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RittaPokie/pseuds/RittaPokie
Summary: Special thanks to Tommy, Eimear, Panda, and KitKatCabbit on discord for enabling this





	1. Elusive

“Lights out. Goodnight, Nott.” Caleb says, flicking the light switch off in the kitchen first, as he has done every single night for the past three years. He has asked repeatedly if she’d prefer his sofa over a camp bed in the back corner of an unused kitchen, but aside from a handful of cold winter evenings, she has declined. He doesn’t press the issue anymore, her reasons are her own.

 

He triple checks the back door, because the lock slips sometimes - he really needs to change that, not that there’s much to steal… old books and a few hundred dollars, on a *good* day. He locks the front door as well, and then turns, suddenly face to face with his blue friend. “Ach- Jester, you startled me. What are you doing here? I was just locking up-”

 

“Ya, I know what time you close, Caleb,” she says. “I was waiting for you, I have a question.”

 

“Ja? What is it.” He asks, and starts walking, shoving his hands into his pockets with the keys. It’s a chilly evening, and his breath hangs in the air, but Jester is dressed more for early spring than early winter - as usual.

 

“I know you have that old kitchen in your shop,” she says, “and I have been working in that bakery, with my crummy boss, for so long - I know how to run it now, I think. I was just wondering - I mean, we could split the lease on the building, even! You’ve said before you were struggling with it.”

 

“The kitchen does not work.” he says.

 

“Well, I’ll fix it,” she says.

 

He thinks a moment, his steps slower with her, as she is significantly shorter than him and he has left her behind in the past. It _would_ be nice to have someone to help pay the lease, he would be less likely to lose the dream entirely. The empty kitchen and darkened counter-space has been brought up by customers in the past. “Ja, okay,” he says. “I have no idea how much it will cost to fix that kitchen up, but… if you can, then you are welcome to.”

 

“Oh, that’s not a problem, I can just ask my mama!” Jester practically skips around in front of him, halting their path. “Thank you, thank you!” She gives him a quick hug and then takes off running, with a shouted, “See you tomorrow, Cay-leb!”

 

He wonders whether what he’s just agreed to is a good thing or a bad thing.

  


\---

  


“I can’t believe you gave up my room to a bakery.” Nott says, helping Caleb scoot the camp bed across the tattered carpet between the shelves of books to the office on the other side of the shop.

 

“I think it will be more like a café,” he says, “and I thought you like having Jester around.”

 

“I do, but I was sleeping in there,” she gripes, “and now I have a much smaller room”

 

“Which you will have much longer, because now I will be able to pay the lease.” He says, and she sighs. It’s not a point she can counter.

 

Jester walks in just as they’re finished moving the bed. “Oh, look who it is, _room stealer_.” Nott says, but she welcomes the hug Jester gives her anyway.

 

“I _knooow_ , I’m sorry!” she says, setting Nott down. “I’ll give you free stuff from the bakery all the time, I swear.”

 

“You sell booze?”

 

“No,” Caleb says, “no she will not be.”

 

“Oh, a _speakeasy_ ,” Jester says. “That could be fun.”

 

“No,” Caleb says shortly.

  


\---

  


Caleb isn’t that enthused about the comings and goings of workers and movers and painters that traverse his shop for the next few weeks, but eventually, it all comes to fruition in a café with nearly a complete opposite aesthetic to his soft-lit, cozy bookstore. In comparison, it’s gaudy. The counter has been replaced with bright pinks and blues, candy-cane stripes, with the swinging door busted out for an archway with a saloon-style gate. He has to admit that it looks better than a dark, unused room, though.

 

Over the next week, he starts getting compliments from customers for having finally done something with that space, and while some of his regulars aren’t too happy with the new atmosphere, _no one_ complains about the smell of baked goods and coffee.

 

Then, Jester decides to hire some ‘employees’, who are really just a few of her friends who are willing to be there out of the kindness of their hearts and the promise of free baked goods. Caleb doesn’t care to meet them, and, in fact, goes out of his way to never meet them. Eventually, he starts hearing back from Jester that Fjord thinks he might be a ghost.

  


\---

  


When Jester asked him to please, please, _please_ come help her with a project, Molly didn’t expect a café. He definitely didn’t expect one set into the side of a very nice, cozy little used bookstore. He really wants to know how Jester met the owner because, so far, she is the only one who has ever seen him, and he can’t imagine they have a lot in common.

 

Bored out of his mind, with not a single customer for two hours, Molly is dozing off while standing, leaning on his elbows on the counter. Something startles him out of his afternoon nap. A redhead in very common clothes with so little color comes around a shelf with a rolling cart of books. Molly shifts, staying quiet, and watches as the other thumbs through every book before placing them on the shelves, being so loving and careful about already abused spines and covers.

 

The man pauses on one of the thicker books, flipping through it and then back to the first page. He stands, almost perfectly still, and Molly stares. For _a full hour_ , Molly watches him read. Finally, he snaps the book closed, shaking himself slightly, and tucks it onto the shelf. Then, he slowly turns his head, and meets Molly’s gaze. The tiefling feels the smile curling on his lips, amused by this whole display, and he waves.

 

The other, who Molly knows must be the owner of the adjoined establishment, stares at him wide-eyed for a moment before moving quickly back around the shelves, tugging the cart behind him as an afterthought. Molly’s grin widens, and he plucks the closed sign out from under the counter. He sets it haphazardly down on the pink marble, because no one has been by anyway.

 

“Finally, something interesting,” he says softly to himself.

 

He walks to the end of the aisle and looks up and down each side of the T. The redhead is nowhere in sight. He picks the thickest book off the shelf, the one the other had been reading, and heads to the front. Still alone, he taps the bell on the counter by the register.

 

Nothing.

 

He waits for a few minutes, taking in the shop again. He doesn’t get over here much, except to pass through on his way in and out, and he has never really appreciated the place before. By comparison to Jester’s place, it’s quiet and muted, but it’s clear that a lot of thought has gone into the lighting and flow of the whole shop. He can see exposed brick on the opposite wall to the café, with few shelves covering it. All of the windows have blinds, but they’re pulled all the way up to let in as much sunlight as possible. The carpet is tattered, but so are the books. Nothing here is done without deliberate attention, and Molly can feel almost feel the love that has gone into this whole place.

 

He is still looking around when the redhead clears his throat behind him, at the register. “There you are,” Molly says when he turns around. “Seemed like a good book, and it’s been a boring day, so… I figured, why not?”

 

“Ja, I got distracted by it.” The man clears his throat again, and his face is redder than a single hair on his head.

 

“How far did you get into it?” Molly asks. He sets the book down for Caleb to ring it up.

 

“I, ehm… I finished it, actually.”

 

“Oh, well, then,” Molly huffs. “It must be good. Say, what’s your name, again? Jester mentioned it before, but I don’t remember.”

 

“Caleb Widogast,” he says. “We have not met, but Jester said your name was Mollymauk Tealeaf? I thought she might be...joking…”

 

“No, that’s it, Mr. Caleb,” Molly says, and Caleb places the book back down on the counter. “It’s nice to meet you.”

 

“It is nice to meet you, as well,” Caleb says.

 

“The accent, it’s Zemnian, yeah?” Molly asks, and Caleb nods. “It’s cute. See you around, thanks for the book.” He walks away, back to the café, not looking back to see how or if Caleb responded to that. He’ll find out later, he’s sure. They do share a pretty tight space, after all.

  


\---

  


Caleb doesn’t know what to think about the exchange from earlier that day. He definitely didn’t finish stocking that section - _how could he_? Molly waved at him on his way out for the day like nothing happened, and Caleb waved back, because that’s what you do. The whole concept is strange. If Caleb thought that Jester’s café was gaudy, it was because he hadn’t yet met Mollymauk when he first saw it. The tiefling is clad head to toe in the most obnoxiously color scheme that Caleb has ever seen. A cacophony of purples and moons and stars and just about every other vaguely occult symbol you could think of. He’s as close to embodying the occult as one could get without actually strapping on a ouija board.

 

“He is just… very strange.” Caleb says later, to Nott, as he is shutting down for the day.

 

“He’s a little weird, but he’s actually pretty nice. I’ve been over there a few times,” Nott says, “and he’s, you know, he’s nice.”

 

“He said something in particular that I was not expecting,” Caleb says.

 

“Seems to be his M.O.” Nott says. “What was it?”

 

“That my accent is… cute.” The word feels weird and unnatural, especially since it is in reference to himself. “He bought a book, though I am not sure he will enjoy it. It was old Empire history. Metals, specifically, weaponry, currency, magical uses.”

 

“Who knows, he might be into that kind of thing,” Nott says, shrugging. “He seems like the type to be into anything.”

 

“Obviously,” Caleb huffs under his breath, and Nott hums questioningly. “Nothing, just muttering to myself.”

  


\---

  


About a month later, things have settled into a routine - which is good, Caleb likes that. Then, before he knows it, Mollymauk is sprinting across the main aisle of his shop and jumping into the arms of a woman with black and white hair and large muscles who looks like she wasn’t fully expecting the embrace. Caleb feels a pang of… some feeling, but doesn’t allow it to linger long enough to find out what it is.

 

She has to fully set Molly back down onto his feet, and her accent is unfamiliar to Caleb when she speaks, “I’m happy to see you too.”

 

“We’ve got so much to talk about,” Molly says, “you have no idea.”

 

“Is it more than your messages and calls?” She asks, and he chuckles softly.

 

“It’s not the same,” he says, and then he turns to Caleb at the register. “Hey, Yasha, you better get the introduction while you can.”

 

He pulls her by the arm over to the counter. “I, ehm, it is nice to meet you,” Caleb says, “I am Caleb Widogast, I own the part of this establishment that sells books.”

 

“Yasha,” she says. Neither of them hold out their hand to shake, and Caleb thinks she looks just as relieved as he feels. “Molly has been telling me a lot about this place, so I thought I would come see for myself.”

 

“Yasha and I are _old, old_ friends,” Molly explains, “she’s my favorite.” He pulls her arm over his shoulders. “I think you two are gonna get along great, but she’s mine right now.”

 

He watches them both walk towards the café, and he’s a little bewildered. “Old friends,” he says quietly to himself, and shakes his head. Again, it evokes emotions that he isn’t really willing to get into right now. “It will pass,” he says, and it’s not the first time he has repeated the phrase to himself over the past month.

  


\---

  


“Sorry, what were you saying?” Molly asks, pulling his attention back to Yasha for the fourth time in the past ten minutes. This time, she looks back.

 

“Molly…”

 

“I’m sorry, it’s just- you ever notice how red hair just sparkles like fire in sunlight?” He asks. “It’s just distracting.”

 

“Molly,” she says again. When he looks back, she has her phone open. It looks like their text conversation, but then she swipes. It’s _screenshots_ of their text conversation. “The first one was ‘speed reading is so hot’.” She reads, and he bites his lip a little, feeling accused.

 

“I did say that.”

 

“‘Have you ever seen eyes so blue you feel like you’re swimming’,” she continues, “‘that moment when someone’s coat slips down off their shoulders and-’”

 

“Yeah, yeah, okay-” Molly grabs her phone and shuts the screen off. “Those are all valid points.”

 

“If I can see the answer, then it’s obvious,” she says.

 

He has his elbows propped on the counter and his chin in his hands. “His eyes are just so intense and piercing, I think I actually hurt from them the other day.”

 

“What does that even mean?” she asks.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Why don’t you just go talk to him, then?” she asks. “Right now, even. He is right there.”

 

“It’s not that simple…” He sighs, and turns his attention back to her. “Besides, it’s just a crush. He’s cute and he’s...around. I’ll get over it.”

 

“But he’s right there?”

 

“Yeah, physically,” Molly says, “but he’s kinda… he keeps people at arms’ length, and I don’t know if I can compete with that. I worked here for two weeks before I met him.”

 

“Sounds like...a lot.”

 

“Who are you two talking about?” Jester asks, and Molly startles, since she is suddenly beside them. “Molly has a crush, who is it?”

 

Molly stammers a minute, but Yasha looks back behind her, and Jester gasps. “Shush, sh _hhh_!” Molly puts his hand over the blue tiefling’s mouth. “You shush, don’t say a word.”

 

She mumbles something unintelligible under his palm and then she pushes his arm until he moves. “ _Caleb_ ?” she asks in a whisper. “You and _Caleb_ , oh my gosh, but you would be so cute together.”

 

“Hush,” Molly says again, for what little good it does.

 

“I can talk to him if you want me to. I can ask if he likes you back and then you can start dating, oh it’ll be so _cute_ . It’s so _romantic_.”

 

“No, no, no, we’re not gonna do that. It’s just a crush, it’s nothing serious,” Molly says, and then he glances down at Yasha’s phone to spite himself. Jester picks it up immediately, and of course Yasha doesn’t have a passcode.

 

“What is it, what’s on here that you don’t want me to see, hmm?” she asks, and then the screen comes up, showing the photos that Molly hadn’t closed before turning the phone off, “Oh, Molly!”

 

“Jester, _shut up_ ,” Molly says, because he can see Caleb glance up out of the corner of his eye at Jester’s shout.

 

“Okay, I’m not gonna do anything, because you said not to, but you’re being silly. You should just go _talk_ to him. Or talk _at_ him, I guess,” she says. “He’s not a snake, he doesn’t bite. As far as I _know_ anyway,” she adds, winking, and then she disappears into the kitchen proper as fast as she had come.

 

“She is a lot,” Yasha says, but her expression is soft, “and she isn’t wrong. You could just go talk to him.”

  


\---

  


“So, _Cayleb_ , I had an idea for your store,” Jester says, leaning on his register counter as he is counting the day’s earnings.

 

“Ja?” he asks, only half paying attention. If he was more focused on who he is talking to, he might be worried about the suggestion.

 

“We should do a ‘our picks’ display up here, by your counter. We could all pick a book - you, me, Molly, Fjord, and you remember one of the friends I had helping me paint? Beau, she said she would-”

 

“I remember her, she has been in a few times since. She is really the only one of your friends who buys books,” he looks up, “but this is a good idea.”

 

“I know, I’m full of those,” she says, and he gives her a soft smile. “I don’t know if Yasha and Nott would want to, but they can pick a book too.”

 

“I will see if I can find a stand to display them on, there are still a lot of odds and ends in the storage that I have not been through.”

  


\---

  


They go through this cycle for a few more months, and Jester, again, is drumming up more business for him with her ideas. For all her unpredictability, she has been an excellent business partner. He sees the café crew every once and a while, but they don’t interact that much. Finally, inevitably, even though he has been avoiding the purple tiefling, they end up putting out their pick of the week at the same time, just as the shop is closing.

 

“Wow, you’re late putting yours out this week,” Molly says, keeping his voice low because Nott is already asleep in the office. “You’re usually the first one, I don’t know how you do it.”

 

“I am a fast reader, so I have many favorites to choose from… which was the problem this week, I had a few that I liked as much as the other.”

 

“I’m not much of a reader,” Molly says. “To tell you the truth, I’ve picked a few of these by the cover. I know you’re not supposed to do that, but...well.”

 

Caleb chuckles a bit, and Molly’s heart starts flipping in his chest. “Well, it is not a hobby everyone shares, I understand,” he says. “Yours are usually the ones I have not read.”

 

“Oh? Even Jester’s?” Molly asks.  


“Ehm, yes…”

 

“So, you like terrible romance novels,” Molly says. “You like smut.”

 

“Is that...surprising?” Caleb asks. “It is a style of writing, they are not all bad.”

 

“It is kinda, yeah. I just- you don’t seem the type.”

 

“And what type is that?” Caleb asks.

 

“I dunno.” Molly shrugs. “A romantic?”

 

“I suppose that is true.”

 

Molly takes another look around the shop, and he remembers how it looks in the daylight, how carefully arranged everything is. “Actually, no, I take that back. You’ve clearly got some romance going on here, it’s just with literature, not people.”

 

“I….thank..you?” Caleb says slowly. He is unsure if it was meant as a compliment, but he is going to take it as one.

 

“I mean it, you’ve put a lot of work and heart into this place and it shows,” Molly says. “Not to be weird, but I can feel your soul in it. I have looked at a lot of your stock, trying to find something to call a favorite, and it’s not like any stocking system I’ve ever seen. It’s not alphabetical, or by date, it’s-”

 

“There is a bit of a system to it, but mostly they are grouped by similar stories, or writing styles,” Caleb interrupts with the answer. “I...have read most of the books here, and I remember them well.”

 

“How well? Jester said you have a creepy memory.”

 

“Eh...word for word…” it feels kind of like he is admitting something after the statement that his memory is creepy - which he understands, because even he feels that way sometimes.

 

“So what’s Jester’s pick like this week?” Molly asks, picking up the pale blue book. It has a scene of a ship at sea (a lot of them have lately), and a couple wrapped in each other’s arms. The maiden is scantily clad, white cotton clinging to her, suggestively wet, and the man’s shirt is ripped open, his chest hair on full display. Even their facial expressions are needlessly erotic. Even if Caleb didn’t know, he would be able to make an educated guess and be reasonably certain that this one is particularly bad.

 

“It is not really fit for display,” Caleb says. “I am unfortunate to remember it.”

 

Molly flips to a random page. “So, creepy memory, if I was to start on a random line, you would be able to finish it?”

 

“If it is something relatively recent, yes,” Caleb says.

 

“Is it?” Molly asks, his eyebrows raised.

 

“Unfortuantely…” Caleb clears his throat after he speaks, his voice having gone a little hoarse. He can’t work out what exactly Molly is trying to accomplish.

 

Molly skims a few pages, turning them while Caleb’s anxiety rises in his chest at the uncertainty of what’s to come. Molly snorts and covers his mouth, laughing. “Wow,” he says, “it’s really- yeah. Okay, okay. I’ll read a line of dialogue here, in this scene, and you do the response?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I didn’t expect to find you here, Rose,” Molly says, his voice low and comically sultry, but it’s enough to make Caleb’s heart skip anyway. “Stowing away... “ He clucks his tongue thrice.

 

“I had to get away from that town…” Caleb says, his eyes flicking to the sides to find the memories. “I had to… be with you…” Even he can tell that his reading is much less dramatic and emotionally accurate than Molly’s, but it doesn’t seem to deter the tiefling.

 

“Whatever are we going to do with you…” he circles Caleb, one hand behind his back, the other holding the book, and stops behind him. Molly leans in closer to Caleb’s ear, acting out the scene in the book rather than just reading it. “I can think of a few things…” he whispers, the heat of his breath brushing over Caleb’s ear and neck, making the hairs there stand on end.

 

He reaches up and rubs his neck out of instinct. “And what would those be, C-captain?”

 

Molly circles back around, biting back a grin. The stammering had not been accurate to the book - no, Rose is much more bold than Caleb. “You’re really good at this, you know?” Molly says, dropping the act for a second before he looks back to the book with a stern expression and breathes back into the character. “Oh, Rose, Rose, my dear. You’re such a delicate flower…” He reaches up and puts a single finger under Caleb’s chin, “I left to spare you, but it seems you crave the darkness…”

 

Molly is...so close... _so_ close, only a single step, and- Caleb moves forward, his hands going to either side of Molly’s face, and he kisses him. He hears the _thunk_ of the book hitting the floor and then Molly’s arms are around him, one hand sliding under his coat and gripping the fabric of his shirt at his back. Caleb tangles his fingers in Molly’s hair and the tiefling moans softly - then they’re stumbling backwards until Caleb bumps into and stops on the counter. He pushes himself up until he’s sitting and tugs Molly closer by his coat.

 

Finally, Caleb pulls away, leaving them both panting softly. “I have wanted to do that for so long…” He admits in barely a whisper.

 

“Hmmm...me too…” Molly kisses him again, and it’s somehow so much softer than before, when Caleb led. Molly is gentle, and it makes Caleb’s heart rampage in his chest.

 

“Nott is sleeping just over there,” Caleb says in warning, pulling away again nodding his head towards the office, “but, ehm...I…”

 

“Yes?”

 

“My...apartment is...nearby,” Caleb says, and Molly’s lips are on him again - this time, not so sweetly. He is dizzy when Molly lets him go again. “If you want?”

 

“Yes.” Molly moves away, pulling Caleb with him by the hand. “Show me.”

 

Caleb _almost_ forgets to lock up that evening.


	2. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i am literally not capable of doing oneshots

Caleb turns the lock on the store and then turns, meeting Molly’s eyes for a second before heading in the direction of his apartment. Molly catches him and laces their fingers together - his hands are so  _ warm. _ Molly bumps into him many, many times as they walk, just gentle nudges, and he seems...excited, which Caleb doesn’t fully understand.

 

“It is that building, there,” Caleb says, pointing.

 

“Oh yeah, I know this place,” Molly says, following Caleb’s direction. “I’ve done a couple of seances here, actually...and readings… and one exorcism.”

 

Caleb bites his lip to keep from chuckling. “Ja, all of my neighbors believe it is haunted, but I have never had problems. It is an old building, the pipes creak in the walls. They are copper, not plastic, so they make sounds many are not used to.”

 

“That was in that book I bought from you, the first one, right? Copper pipes fell out of fashion decades ago or something.”

 

“Only in common use, they are still used for utilities,” Caleb says, “but plastic is cheaper and less likely to be stolen.”

 

“It’s weird we never met before, I’ve been over here so many times,” Molly muses, more to himself than to Caleb. “I guess it wasn’t time yet.”

 

Caleb gets a bit lost in Molly’s moonlit profile from that point, and he forgets to keep count of his steps from the shop to his building (it’s usually around a thousand, depending on how fast he walks).

 

Caleb’s heart is pounding as he spins his ring of keys to the one that unlocks the gate in front of the building, and then spins it again for the front door. Molly stops them in the stairwell to kiss him next to an iron-barred window. Caleb wishes this could be romantic, because he feels like he’s letting Molly down somehow.

 

Molly’s hands move from his waist to his ass and he squeezes. “All this walking back and forth is serving you well, Mr Caleb.”

 

Suddenly everything feels far more  _ real _ than it had only a moment before. He really invited Molly back to his apartment after making out with him at the front of the bookstore. “I...ehm…”

 

Molly moves his hands back up and pulls away a bit, his expression concerned now. “Was that too forward?”

 

“No!” He startles, and Molly gives him a soft smile. “I- I have not- well, I have never brought someone home so fast, ja? And never at all to this home… only Nott and Jester have been here, and only a handful of times, I am just… unsure of how to… eh…” he stops, frustrated with himself.

 

The tiefling gives him a quick peck on the lips before tugging at his arm, urging him up the stairs. “Well, let's start by getting inside, then,” Molly says. “We’ll figure it out from there.”

 

“Ja, okay,” he takes a deep breath and lets Molly lead for a bit until they come to Caleb’s floor and he has to again, because Molly doesn’t know which unit is his, nor does he have a key.

 

“This is it,” Molly says. For the first time, Caleb sees a crack in the cheery exterior - Molly is just as nervous as he is… well, maybe not quite. His hands aren’t shaking, Caleb can feel that in their twined fingers. He brings Molly’s hand up and kisses the back on a whim.

 

Molly’s gaze flicker from his eyes to his lips for a half second before he is stumbling Caleb back into the door. The redhead’s back thumps against the wood and he moans softly into the tiefling’s mouth, wrapping an arm around Molly’s waist and pulling him closer. Molly takes advantage of the moment and slips his tongue against Caleb’s, and Caleb’s toes curl a bit in his boots.

 

He fumbles behind him with the key in his other hand, spinning the keys with his thumb. He counts them, and then tries to fit it into the lock - but it stops. No, he was  _ sure _ that was it, that  _ should  _ be the one, but Molly’s burning kisses are moving past his jaw and onto his neck, and he can feel desire warming him from the inside out. His ears and cheeks feel like they’re on fire with blush.

 

He brings the keys up to his line of sight and counts them backwards. It strikes him as surely as the gentle scrape of Molly’s teeth on his throat.  _ He counted them wrong _ . The tiefling’s tongue lightly traces the shell of his ear and it’s a tickle that goes straight through his whole body - enough to provoke an embarrassing sound that he doesn’t want to admit to. “ _ Scheiße,  _ Molly, I… I need to unlock the…”

 

“Am I distracting you?” Molly asks, sounding entirely  _ falsely  _ innocent. His breath is a warm puff of air against Caleb’s neck as he kisses down to the junction with his shoulder, tugging the fabric of Caleb’s shirt out of the way. “You smell like charcoal.”

 

“Is that a bad thing?” Caleb asks, and he finally gets the key into the lock and turns it.

 

“No, I like it,” Molly nuzzles his face against Caleb’s shoulder and sighs softly. “I don’t want to seem too eager, but I really-“ is all he gets out before the door swings open from their weight against it, and they both nearly tumble onto the floor.

 

“It… is not much, I am sorry.” Caleb rubs the back of his neck as Molly finds his balance and looks around.

 

“Are you kidding? It’s like twice the size of my place,” Molly says. “It’s nice, and you’ve got an East facing window. I bet you get a lot of light in here.”

 

“Southeast, specifically,” Caleb says.

 

“Oh shit, you should put up some hanging planters or something, then… Sorry,” he moves idly around the room for a moment before coming back to Caleb. “Uh, bedroom?” He points to one of the two doors that aren’t the front.

 

“Yes, that… that is the bedroom.”

 

“We’re both so fucking bad at this,” Molly says, and he laughs a bit. “I should’ve brought Jester’s book. We need a script.”

 

Caleb slips his keys into his pocket and shrugs his coat off onto the floor. It’s a step, a small one, but a step nonetheless. Molly doesn’t say anything about the bandages wrapping his arms. Molly closes the distance between them and thumbs the top button on his shirt for a few seconds before popping it loose, then the next, and the next, and Caleb kisses him. He nips Molly’s lip as he pulls away and tries to pull the move that the tiefling did in the hallway, but he’s thwarted from reaching Molly’s ears by his horns.

 

He studies him a minute and Molly stops, his hands on Caleb’s hips. “You still with me?”

 

“Ja, I am trying to figure out how this works… with these…” He traces the curve of Molly’s horn from the bejeweled rip to the base and brushes his fingers through purple hair, his nails just barely scraping his scalp. Molly lets out a shaky breath.

 

“Handlebars,” Molly says. Caleb doesn’t have time to question that before the tiefling drops to his knees in front of him. He undoes the buckle on Caleb’s pants and then looks up at him. “Okay?”

 

Caleb has to break himself out of a lustful daze at what he’s seeing. “Ah? Ja, ja, I- yes, it is okay… yes.”

 

Slowly, without breaking eye contact, Molly pulls Caleb’s pants down to his ankles and leans in to mouth along the outline of his cock through his briefs. He takes Caleb’s hands and gingerly places them on his horns; the redhead doesn’t grip tightly, but his fingers do wrap around just so slightly, like the temptation is almost too much to resist. He kisses at Caleb’s quickly hardening member, listening to the hitches in the other’s breath and his own heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

 

He tugs the waistband of Caleb’s underwear down just enough to reveal the sensitive head and takes it into his mouth, sucking lightly. He pulls the cloth out of the way as he moves down and down, until he can’t take more without getting him wetter. He can feel Caleb’s hands gripping his horns now, urging him forward - but he still needs him to make  _ some _ noise. The intensity of Caleb’s state was one of the first things he noticed and now he has full attention. He moves away, hears a whine edging Caleb’s exhale, and smiles up at him. He pulls Caleb’s pants up as he stands and drags him backwards towards the bedroom door.

 

“Let’s get you more comfortable,” Molly says, “we’re kinda out in the open here.” He opens the door and doesn’t bother looking close before he backs into the bed and sits down. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”

 

It’s kind of a moot point - Molly has already seen, but it’s a witty one-liner that he can’t just ignore. He slips the purple moons and suns coat off and then goes to work on his own buttons. Caleb hesitates for a second before pulling his own shirt off and kicking his pants away where they fell to his ankles as soon as Molly let go of them. He was half undressed already, and so he is fully naked by the time Molly gets to his bottom shirt button.

 

He pops last button and looks up at Caleb, “Are you sure you’re into this?”

 

“Ja, I-“ Caleb rubs a hand over his face and sits next to Molly on the bed. “I am still a little shocked this is happening, but…” he cups Molly’s cheek in his hand to turn the slightly forlorn face towards him, “I want this, Mollymauk, I want you. I am sorry.”

 

“Don’t apologize,” Molly shakes his head. “There’s no bother in being certain.”

 

“I am glad, but Molly,” he sighs, pats his cheek and gives him a soft kiss on equally soft lips. 

 

He scoots further back on the bed and pulls Molly with him by the hand, then straddles him and starts undoing his pants. After they’re undone he practically has to peel them off, and he says a silent thank you to nothing that Molly isn’t wearing those woefully impractical boots today. Molly kicks his sneakers off before Caleb manages to struggle the skin-right denim down off of Molly’s legs. He settles back on top of the tiefling’s thighs once they’re both stripped.

 

“Now, this is a vista,” Molly says, tracing his fingers lightly between the larger freckles on Caleb’s hips.

 

Caleb brushes his hand over the scars on Molly’s upper torso, but he says nothing about them. Instead, he moves to the tattoos, and leans down to kiss between his pecs, moving down slowly and glancing up at Molly every few. At the same time, his fingers wrap around Molly’s cock and he strokes him from base to tip, bringing him to full hardness with eager movements. Molly’s back arches off the bed and he groans as Caleb’s lips join his hand; the redhead licks his lips, wetting them before gliding them down the underside of Molly’s erection, his tongue moving between them. Caleb slicks him up, teasing him until he’s squirming beneath him before finally taking him into his mouth. He keeps one hand resting on Molly’s thigh, feeling his muscles jump and tense, while the other fondling his ball, squeezing gently from time to time.

 

“Fuck, Caleb… you’re gonna rip me apart like this…” Molly moans breathlessly, panting and gasping above him, and pets Caleb’s hair, stroking his fingers through the waves of amber-orange. His tail snakes along Caleb’s inner thigh and wraps around his cock, still hard even without attention for so long. Caleb’s hips jerk and he makes a gasping sort of moan, and pulls away from Molly, coughing.

 

“I- eck, choking on my own saliva…” he manages between coughs.

 

“Sorry,” Molly stills his movements but leaves his tail in place, waiting for Caleb to settle again.

 

“I knew where both of your hands were, so I was not expecting, eh...this,” he looks down at himself and Molly’s tail wrapped around him, the spade at the end idling flicking in the air. “Now, where was I…”

 

“You were sucking my soul out through my dick, I believe,” Molly says, and Caleb chuckles above him. It’s the first time Molly has gotten a laugh from him that he didn’t catch and hold hostage in his throat, and the tiefling feels his heart skip. “You’re so fucking adorable, Caleb.”

 

The redhead’s flush deepens, and rather than respond, he decides to get back to business. He bobs down on Molly’s cock, and the tiefling tangles his fingers back into his hair and starts jerking him off with his tail. It’s not long before Caleb pulls away again and groans against Molly’s thigh. Caleb’s fists are twisted in the bedsheets on either side of Molly, and he gasps as the spade flicks over the head of his cock, dragging teasingly against the slit and spreading the precum that has collected there.

 

“M-hah- Mollymauk, you need to...slow down…” he moans, his forehead pressed against the tiefling’s hip.

 

“Do you want me to?”

 

Caleb shakes his head, and he starts muttering something in Zemnian that is too quiet to understand, but Molly doesn’t speak the language anyway. He doesn’t need to, because then his name tumbles from Caleb’s lips and he’s cumming, trembling and stuttering out gasping breaths.

 

Molly is overwhelmed with the sudden desire to kiss him, and he moves his hands from Caleb’s hair to his shoulders. “C’mere, Caleb, please, come here,” he says, breathless again just from watching Caleb come apart beneath him. Caleb crawls on shaky arms and legs him and he kisses Molly with such gentle  _ reverence _ that the tiefling almost wants to cry.

 

“You are so beautiful, you know?” Caleb babbles, collapsing bonelessly next to him. His hand goes to Molly’s cock and strokes him quickly, with Molly’s hips moving along with him. “And you have been so patient with me tonight, and so… so kind.”

 

Molly pulls him in again, kissing him sloppily and gasping as Caleb twists his wrist just so - and then he’s falling over the edge with a groan that won’t be shut out by thin walls.

 

Molly rolls onto his side and scoots in close, and they stay like that for a while, their lips touching between breaths. Caleb moves away a moment to grab tissue from the bedside and cleans them both up as much as he can, and when he’s done, he settles back into Molly’s arms. Molly can’t get the dopey grin off of his face, and Caleb is…  _ relaxed _ . He hasn’t felt so tired in a way that wasn’t due to sleep deprivation in a long, long time. He doesn’t know when exactly he falls asleep, for the first time.

 

They both wake to an alarm blaring before the sun is even touching the floor of his apartment through the window. Caleb frantically scrambles to shut it off while Molly yawns in bed where he left him. “There was a posting for a yard sale today…” he says. He has forgotten more in the past 12 hours than he has in his entire life.

 

“Oh… I should let you get going on your day, then,” Molly says, staring up at the ceiling.

 

Caleb’s brow quirks and he looks to the tiefling. “I, eh… hmm,” he pauses, wondering what has gone wrong between last night and now. Everything feels distant when they had been so close before. “I… set the alarm when I had no other plans, but things have changed now.”

 

“But this is what you do, Caleb, it’s what you like doing,” he says. “Who else is gonna rescue those poor books people don’t want anymore?”

 

“Is something wrong, Mollymauk?” Caleb asks, and the way Caleb says his name still makes his heart flutter in his chest.

 

“No, no- I, I’m just not used to waking up so early, is all. Am I cranky?” He gives Caleb a half-hearted grin, and Caleb is unconvinced, but he doesn’t press it.

 

Caleb stands, his back popping as he stretches, and Molly gets up as well and pads around to his side of the bed. “Can I get a shower before I head out?”

 

“Of course,” Caleb says. Molly gives him a kiss on the forehead, and walks away.

  
  


———

  
  


Later, standing at the register and resupplying it with change, Caleb can feel Beau’s eyes searing into his soul from where she stands with both hands, palm down, on the counter. He ignores her scrutiny for a while before she finally says something. Her voice is low, like an accusation. “You got laid last night.”

 

A handful of coins clatters to the floor. He kneels to pick them up, fully aware that he has confessed whether he spoke or not. When he stands again, her face is smug. “So?” he asks. He shifts the rest of the coins into the register and closes it.

 

“So? So who?” She asks. “You go straight from this shop to your house every day. It’s someone I know.”

 

“I am not going to tell you,” he says, and she frowns. “Besides, I, eh, I do not think it will happen again.”

 

“Was it bad?”

 

“No,” he says immediately. “No, it is just… it was awkward this morning.”

 

“Oh,” she says, and then she seems as sympathetic as he’s ever seen, “that sucks.”

 

“I agree, but it is not really my decision if… this person does not want to repeat the experience,” Caleb says. “Maybe it was bad for him, I do not know.”

 

“Him,” Beau repeats. “Okay, that narrows it down.”

 

“Please, do not get involved.”

 

“I just want to know who it was, that’s all,” she says. “If you don’t want to be an adult and talk through your shit, that’s on you.”

  
  


———

  
  


“Molly,” Jester says, standing below him as he balances on a stool to change a dead lightbulb.

 

“Yes, darling?” He asks.

 

“Molly, those are the same clothes you were wearing yesterday,” she says, and he chuckles.

 

“Yeah, yeah they are,” he says. “I didn’t make it home last night. Well, not my home, anyway.”

 

“ _ Molly _ . Was it Caleb? It has to be Caleb, right? He’s the only one you’ve been talking about the past few months, but- ohmy _ gosh _ , it’s Caleb!” Her voice pitches higher than usual as she talks. “Soo _ ooo. _ How did it go? Was it romantic, did you fall in  _ love _ ?”

 

“It was great, but I made it weird this morning,” he admits. “He’s got a routine and I felt like I was intruding. I just… showered and left while he was getting ready. I came straight here and waited for you. He usually gets here before you, so I think he probably avoided me. Which… is fair.”

 

“But Molly, you like him!” She says, sounding so forlorn. “You should go and say you’re sorry, you can just  _ talk _ about it, you know?”

 

Molly shrugs. If he were to tell the truth, he would tell her that he hasn’t ever really been in any relationship that didn’t end the next morning or, at most, a few weeks later, and those are usually much worse. Even his friendships with Yasha and the people in this building have gone on so long that they’re composed 100% of guesswork at every turn. If he can get away with Caleb avoiding him but remaining amicable and not actively sick of him, he will have won.

 

He steps down off the stool. “It’s fine, I’ll figure it out.”

 

“Hey, Jes, I need coffee today, it’s gonna be one of those,” Beau says, speaking before she even enters the room. “Caleb’s being weird. Well, weird _ er _ .”

 

Jester bites her lips and looks at Molly, who shakes his head. He’s suddenly glad that Beau wasn’t in the day before, even though he missed her, because she has no way to know what he was wearing. “I’ll get you some coffee, Beau,” Jester says, and she keeps a close eye on them both as she goes to make it.

 

Molly hears Wild West stand-off music in his head, and not because Fjord is around to make the noises. “We missed you yesterday,” Molly says.

 

“Yeah, I had shit to do,” she answers, and looks back to watch Jester. “And I do today, too. A friend’s work is never done and all that.”

 

“What’s up with Caleb?” He asks, knowing full well what’s up with Caleb.

 

“I dunno, why don’t you tell me?” She asks, and Molly feels his heart in his throat. “You were here yesterday, not me.”

 

“No idea,” he lies, and instantly realizes his mistake. His voice is pitched weird, and even he can read straight through it.

 

“Okay,” Beau says. “Well that’s one mystery solved.” Caleb’s request for her not to get involved hangs heavy on her shoulders, and she fights to keep her mouth shut. “You’re both fucking stupid,” she says.

 

She walks out of the kitchen, carrying the stool with her, and takes a seat out by the café counter to wait for desperately needed coffee.

  
  


———

  
  


Caleb carries along with his day as if nothing had happened until mid afternoon, when the closest and cheapest place to get lunch is unfortunately where his flubbed one-night-stand is working. His feet are heavy as he walks to the counter, and Molly is, of course, there. He considers turning around and walking away, but he has already been seen and Nott would kill him if he didn’t eat all day.

 

He asks for coffee and whatever they have that Molly doesn’t think they’ll need. He isn’t picky about his food. Molly smirks, “Long night?”

 

Caleb huffs into his coffee mug. “Rough morning, actually.”

 

Molly’s act drops, and he looks a bit hurt. “I, uh… yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

 

Caleb shakes his head. “You have nothing to apologize for, Mollymauk,” he says, speaking without looking at Molly, because it’s easier that way. “I made assumptions that I should not have, I would not want that to affect our friendship. I think you are interesting, so I would hope that this does not complicate things.”

 

“I… feel the same,” Molly says, but he struggles. “That’s why I left this morning. I’m really not good at relationships, you know? I did what I’m good for, beyond that, I don’t know.”

 

“I think it has been made more than clear that we are both out of our element,” Caleb says, “but that doesn’t have to be the end of the world.”

 

He starts to walk away and Molly catches his hand on the counter. “Hey, thank you,” he says, “for this… I was kinda worried I fucked things up this morning. I really… I do like you.”

 

“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me,” Caleb says. He gives Molly’s hand a light squeeze and goes back to his own counter.

 

“Stupid fucking idiot,” Molly grumbles, his head on the counter. “He’s  _ right there _ .”


	3. Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb gets a cat, and Yasha blows back into town like the wild wind she is

Caleb has the unique chance to organize books however he wants, and he can shuffle them around as many times as he wants - because, first, people don’t come here for specific books, and second, even if they _did_ , he could show them _exactly_ where he put it. He rearranges the shelves multiple times over the next month, a restless feeling deep in his chest. It’s like nothing has changed, and that’s a _problem_ for once.

 

Every morning at nine, he walks half a mile down the street to his shop, opens it, and spends the next ten or so hours tending to the slow trickle of customers, and he has lunch around noon at Jester’s cafe. Every evening, at six, he turns the closed sign around on the door and walks the aisles, looking for things out of place. He dusts, sweeps, straightens everything, and checks in on Nott before he closes the blinds and counts the day’s earnings. Jester and her group are done at odd times that he can’t predict, but they usually leave sometime between him cleaning and counting money. Molly waves at him on his way out, and he waves back. It’s all exactly how it was before that night.

 

Caleb sits in the office chair in the little room that Nott has been living in - it’s the only thing she didn’t get rid of - and waits for her to come back over from Jester’s. She spends increasing amounts of time there, which he is glad about, but he wishes she were here in this moment. He spins slowly, idly, looking up at the ceiling with his hands folded on his chest. He hears the door creak open and then shut, but he doesn’t look. He can’t hear footsteps, so he knows that it is Nott.

 

“What’s up?” she asks.

 

“I had thought I was satisfied here,” he says, “with what I have. I thought I could not want more, or did not deserve it. I am… still unsure as to the latter, but…”

 

“Caleb, you deserve everything you want. You’ve done nothing but try and make people happy since I met you,” she says. “Everyone I’ve ever met has hated me, and the first thing you asked was if I needed a place to stay.”

 

“I needed a night guard, at the time,” he admits.

 

“So it was a completely selfish act, with no kindness in it, you just use everyone you come across? You don’t really believe that - never mind, I know you do, but you’re wrong,” she says, and there’s a pause, “just this once.”

 

“I suppose it does not matter, really,” he says. “It is not up to me.”

 

“Is this about Molly?” she asks, and Caleb finally sits up.

 

“Yes, and no.”

 

“Vague,” Nott says. “What’s the part that _isn’t_ about Molly?”

 

“I have been alone for a very long time now, and I always thought that it suited me, but…” he sighs. “Maybe I am overreacting. A crush only lasts for six months, ja? Everything may be normal again in a month.”

 

“Oh, Caleb,” she gives him a sympathetic look. “You should really talk to him or something. Avoiding it isn’t healthy - and I know, coming from me, that doesn’t mean a lot, but-”

 

“Nott, everything you say means a lot to me.”

 

She rolls her eyes and gives him a half-cocked smile. “Talk to him, alright?”

 

“I will. I cannot avoid him forever when he spends the majority of his days less than ten yards from me.” He stands and makes his way out, but stops at the door. “Nott, do you want to go somewhere tomorrow?”

 

“Where?”

 

“I am financially stable now, and I was thinking… I have always wanted a cat. Since we are closed tomorrow, I thought it might be…fun... you know, for all of us, our little family? I am going to ask Jester and hers as well.”

 

He can see the hesitation shown plainly on her face, but she nods. “Yeah, okay.”

 

\---

 

He gives her a genuine smile and makes his way over to the café. All of them are there today (except Yasha, who has been back on the open road for weeks now). Fjord, Jester, Beau, and Molly are all talking in a circle in front of the counter, all clearly about ready to leave.

 

Jester spots him first and gasps. “Fjord! It’s the ghost of the bookshop owner! He’s here! Save us!” She hops behind him, holding onto his arms and peeking out from behind his back.

 

“Ha ha,” his voice is full of sarcasm, “very funny, Jessie, I know he’s not a ghost. That was a… joke. I met him last month.”

 

“Yes, I… ehm, I am sorry it took so long,” Caleb says. “I was wondering if any of you had plans for tomorrow?”

 

“I mean, not really. Jester and I were gonna go to the beach, but that’s always there,” Beau says. “What did you want to do?”

 

“I am going to get a cat, from a shelter-“

 

“Obviously,” Jester says, “obviously from a shelter.”

 

“Yes,” Caleb agrees. “I thought it might be a nice group activity, if any of you want to come along. Nott is coming.”

 

There’s a chorus of agreement from them, and Caleb feels his chest come out of the vice grip it’s in when he talks to people. Molly snaps his fingers, “You know, I’d love to, but I’ve gotta be around to let Yasha into my place.”

 

“Oh,” Caleb says, and there’s a heavy pause. Everyone looks at Molly, and then back at him. “Well, give her my welcome when you see her.”

 

“Aw, Molly, we’ll miss you!” Jester says, and she hugs him.

 

“You’ll see me the next day,” he laughs a bit and hugs her back.

 

\---

 

When Beau and Jester get home half an hour later, Beau immediately goes to collapse on her bed, fully intending to have a serious power-nap….but something is nagging the back of her brain. She pulls her phone and opens a text to Yasha. Her thumbs tap idly on the screen for a moment before she settles on what to say.

 

“Long time no see” she types, and sends it. She doesn’t get a response right away, not that she was expecting one. She dozes off before her phone makes any noise.

 

“What?” is the reply she gets, and it makes her brows furrow. Molly _did_ say that Yasha was coming into town _tomorrow_. She didn’t hear that wrong. She knows she didn’t.

 

“You’re coming to town????” she exaggerates the question marks because this is a confusing situation. Was she not supposed to know, or something?

 

“Can I call you?” is the next message, and instead of replying, she just taps call.

 

“Hi, Beau,” Yasha says when she answers. There’s the sound of heavy traffic in the background, and the signal is choppy at best. “I am coming in, but… how did you know that? I was going to surprise Molly.”

 

“He said he had to be there to let you in tomorrow,” Beau says.

 

“But I didn’t tell him, and I’m definitely more than a day out.”

 

“Ah, shit, then…” Beau rolls over onto her back and stares at the ceiling, “he’s blowing Caleb off again, I guess. Things have been real weird here.”

 

“I know, that’s why I’m coming,” Yasha says. “He hasn’t sounded good on our last few calls. I know… I am not the most insightful person, but I know Molly’s heart like my own, maybe better.”

 

Beau hears the loud rushing of a car pass again and Yasha shouts away from the phone, “This isn’t a race!” she huffs in frustration, returning to the call. “I swear…”

 

“Where are you?”

 

“Off the highway. You never message, so I figured it was important,” she says.

 

“What are we gonna do about these two?” Beau asks.

 

“I don’t know, I haven’t thought that far ahead,” Yasha admits. “I just know he needs me.”

 

“Hey, Caleb is getting a cat,” Beau says.

 

“Oh, aw… I can’t wait to see it,” Yasha’s voice softens instantly at the mention of the cat, and it makes Beau smile to herself. “I, uh- I need to get moving. It smells like rain… There’s a motel not far, but… I need to go.”

 

“You have money? I got paid yesterday, I could wire some to you, if you need it,” Beau says.

 

“I’m good for tonight, at least, but… thank you. I’ll let you know if something comes up,” Yasha says, and there is a pause long enough for Beau to think she might have ended the call, but then, “see you soon.”

 

“Bye Yash.”

 

\---

 

“So, Caleb,” Fjord says as they all begin their trek to a nearby shelter after meeting at the bookstore, “I’ve been meaning to ask. How did you and Jessie meet?”

 

“She was a customer. Not...a regular, so much, but she did come in on occasions. If there was no one else around, she would stay to chat. I do not know why,” Caleb says.

 

“You looked lonely,” Jester says, “but really I was talking _at_ him. He didn’t really talk back until I was snooping around the kitchen and found Nott. I thought he was going to ban me from the store - which would _not_ have worked out well for you, just so you know.”

 

“It has been very nice, having her around,” Caleb says. “Even if the beginning was not ideal.”

 

“And now all of us are together,” Jester says, putting her arms around as many of them as she can.

 

“Well, almost,” Beau says, thinking of the missing space where Molly would be if he and Caleb would just _talk_ about their shit.

 

“We just need to have more group outings, then,” Jester says. “Molly can come next time. And _besides_ , we’re going to see Yasha again!”

 

Beau doesn’t mention her call, but she hopes that Jester doesn’t notice something is up. Beau can lie, and does it well, but she doesn’t particularly like lying to Jester.

 

“Oh!” Jester exclaims suddenly, half hanging off Beau’s shoulder while they walk, “Oh, I know where we should go! We can all go see the place Fjord works! It’s down on the wharf, it’s such a cute little place. Beau and I have been a couple of times.”

 

“Or,” Fjord says, “or we could do anything besides that.”

 

“If you don’t wanna take us to see it, we can always just drop by while you’re working,” Beau says, and her mood brightens as a smirk spreads on her face.

  
“Why are you so embarrassed about where you work?” Nott asks, looking up to Fjord as he glares back at Beau.

 

“No, no, you’d have to _see_ it, Cayleb, I can’t just _tell_ you,” Jester says. “It would ruin the surprise.”

 

\---

 

They walk through the shelter’s hall of cages for about an hour, stopping to pet every willing creature. If they would let her, he’s sure Jester would take _all_ of them home, but she has fixated on one puppy in particular. Caleb came here for something specific, so he finds an employee to ask for it.

 

“So,” he says, a bit of anxiety welling in his throat, “which is your least friendly cat? Who has been here the longest?”

 

“Sorry, what was your name again?” she asks, brushing her hair back a little off one side of her face and leaving it to cover the other.

 

“Caleb Widogast.”

 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Caleb, I’m Caliana,” she says with a smile, and shakes his hand. “Just wait right here, and I’ll go get him.”

 

She is gone for a few minutes while Caleb stands idle in the middle of the lobby, listening to the muffled voices of his friends who are still around the cages. Jester is trying to convince Beau that they need that puppy.

 

What Caliana brings back is a kennel that, at first glance, doesn’t appear to have any animal in it at all. He kneels down to look into it when she sets it down on the floor and finally, huddled against the very back, he sees what is possibly the most beautiful cat that he has ever seen in his life (and that’s saying something, because all cats are amazing, as far as he’s concerned). Bengal coat and tufts of droopy fur at the ends of his ears, his face odd, extended and fey-like in appearance. The cat makes a growling sound and then hisses, visibly startling when he flips the lock on the front of the carrier.

 

“Hello there,” he says softly to the cat, “I can see life has not treated you kindly.” Now, closer and less awestruck by the cat’s beauty, he can see the tufts of hair missing from his back and broken teeth when he hisses at him again.

 

“He’s a pretty cat, and so smart,” Caliana says. “I don’t see how no one has loved him before he was brought here.”

 

Caleb shuts the cage again. “I will take him.”

 

“Oh,” Caliana sounds surprised, “really? I’m so glad!” Her face - what he can see of it anyway - brightens into a smile.

 

“I like problems that I can solve,” Caleb says. “He needs a home, and privacy. I can provide both of those things.”

 

Caleb walks out of the shelter feeling very content with himself, carrying that same kennel. Jester and Beau walk out with a dog on a leash, the puppy having proven to be much friendlier than his new cat. They all part ways outside the shelter and Caleb carries the cat back home, feeling light than he has at any other point this month. He idly talks to the cat on the way, pointing out landmarks. Nott follows him as far as the bookstore. She doesn’t say anything, but he can feel that she is watching him, but that isn’t unusual. He stops to let her in and then continues on his way.

 

Once inside, he sets the kennel down at the door and opens it, then goes to get a can of cat food that he got the day before. He watches the cat slowly emerge from the carrier and take a look around his new environment. The popping top of the can startles the cat back into the cage, but Caleb can see his nose twitching as he smells the fishy food inside. He upends the can onto a saucer, sets it on the floor in the cat’s eye-line, and then goes back around the counter to put a barrier between them.

 

It takes a full ten minutes for the cat to make his way over to the food, but he starts scarfing it greedily when he does. “You need a name,” Caleb says, and the cat looks up and hisses, his face smeared with food. Caleb chuckles a bit. “You know, no matter how mean you are, this is your home, now. I remember what it feels like to believe no one can be trusted, but I was wrong. You _can_ heal.”

 

The cat obviously can’t respond, and just huddles there in the middle of the floor, blinking and startling if his voice raises above a certain level, every time. “But you never have to like me at all, I will take care of you anyway.”

 

He leaves the cat to do what it will, and goes to his bedroom to read. He leaves the door hanging open, in case the cat decides to take a look around. He doesn’t see him for a few hours, until he passes by the open door and looks in, having obviously been exploring.

 

“What about Frumpkin?” Caleb asks. The cat watches him for a moment and then walks away. “I will take this as a yes, since you did not hiss at the idea.”

 

The next morning, Caleb’s routine is different. He finds Frumpkin sleeping in the kennel, which was left open the day before. The cat cracks one eye and tenses, but doesn’t make any noise. Caleb leaves him be, and puts out food and fresh water before he leaves.

 

\---

 

Molly feels like he backed himself into a corner, because he did. Obviously, Yasha isn’t here, and they’re going to ask where she is. He hasn’t even called her to tell her that he used her in a lie to get out of spending time with Caleb outside work. It doesn’t take long for the question he was dreading is asked.

 

“So, Molly, where are you hiding her?” Jester asks around half an hour after she gets in.

 

“I, uh…” he falters, but Beau speaks before he can come up with something.

 

“I called her the day before yesterday, actually,” she says, and she gives him the most _severe_ side-eye he has ever gotten in his life. “She said it was gonna rain, so… she probably just got held up. It’s probably not great to ride a bike in the rain, it doesn’t have a roof.”

 

“Oh,” Jester says. “Well, I hope she gets here soon, so she can meet Nugget and Caleb’s cat, and we can see her again.”

 

“She’ll be here,” Beau says, and again her eyes flick to Molly. He suddenly doesn’t know why he even tried to lie to her in the first place. “She’s excited to see the cat, but… I mean, I feel like that’s going to be a disappointment. I don’t know that _Caleb_ has seen the cat since he got it.”

 

“He named him Frumpkin! I think it’s cute,” Jester says, and then she sighs. “I have to go somewhere and get cupcake liners because we are _always_ out of _something_.”

 

“I keep telling you to let me do the stock order for you,” Beau says, and Jester frowns.

 

“I can do it! We just sell more stuff than I expected.”

 

Beau gives her a pat on the shoulder as she leaves, and then Molly is left alone with scrutiny. “Hey, Beau… thanks…” he says, and she turns to him.

 

“If you make me lie to Jester again, I’m gonna kick your ass,” she says.

 

“Am I a terrible person?” Molly asks, and Beau’s face falls a bit from the stern expression she had. “I mean, I used my best friend to lie, as an excuse not to hang out with my other friends. That’s… not great.”

 

“You’re not terrible, you’re just an idiot,” she says.

 

“Thanks, Beau,” Molly says. “I will figure this out, I just, I don’t know what to say to him.”

 

“How about, ‘hello, do you want to get something other than coffee or pastries’ or ‘do you want to see a movie’ or something like that,” she says. “Pretty much anything, before he comes to terms with the fact that you don’t like him and locks that door just as tight as he locks this place up every night.”

 

“That might be the better option for everyone,” he says.

 

He sees Beau’s fist clench in his peripheral and she bites down on both of her lips. She forces herself to relax and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Oh, I hate both of you.”

 

She walks away, trying not to stomp, and heads for the door. She needs fresh air, she needs to breathe. She doesn’t even see Caleb until her hand is on the door. “Are you alright, Beauregard?” he asks, and her knuckles go white on the door handle.

 

“Just fine, perfect, I’m swell,” she mutters, and pushes the door open. “Not getting involved,” she adds once she is outside. She pulls her phone out and looks over the messages of cat pictures Yasha has been sending her off and on for the past day. “Please get here soon and sort them out, I’m gonna kill them if you don’t.”

 

\---

 

The first thing Caleb sees when he gets home is Frumpkin sitting on the counter, staring at the door. He shuts it behind him and stares back. “Were you waiting for me?” he asks. “I know I was gone for quite a while. Did I leave you enough food?”

 

He walks around to where the food dish is and sees that it is empty, with just a few crumbs in the bottom. “Ah, I see. I will leave you more tomorrow. I followed the suggestion on the bag, but you are a big boy, so perhaps you need more, ja?”

 

Frumpkin has now moved to the end of the counter to be as far away from Caleb as he can without getting down, and just continues to watch him. “I bet I know what you are waiting for, though,” he says, and he reaches into a cabinet to get another can of wet food. The cat mrows softly when he pops the can open, but doesn’t dare move closer.

 

Caleb dumps the food onto a saucer, like before, and sets it about evenly in the middle of the counter. Frumpkin tenses like he is going to jump when Caleb gets that close, but he stays. Caleb moves back to the other end and waits. The cat has not been as close to him as the food is, at least not by his own choice.

 

“You are going to have to come closer. You cannot eat from over there,” he says. “I will stay only a few minutes, and if you are still not comfortable, I will leave and let you eat in peace.”

 

He stands still, quiet, and waits for a while. He counts the seconds in his head, and Frumpkin watches him _intently_. Caliana was right at the shelter, this cat is very intelligent. Caleb supposes that it is connected to his odd, slightly otherworldly appearance. Frumpkin is a cat, but he isn’t _just_ a cat. Either way, he never comes closer, so Caleb leaves him to his own devices.

 

\---

 

The next day, Yasha _does_ finally arrive, around noon. She stops at the register where Caleb is first. “Hello,” she says, and she shrugs her backpack off of one shoulder. She rummages inside for a moment and pulls out a package. “For you cat,” she says, handing it to him.

 

“A laser light,” he says. “This is kind of you, thank you.”

 

“Cats like those, right?”

 

“Ja, though Frumpkin is skittish,” Caleb says. “Perhaps it will help him bond.”

 

“I like the name,” she says, and then passes by him to go to the café.

 

She drops her pack onto the counter and starts pulling things out of it. First, a book, which she hands to Beau. “I don’t read much, but I was looking through this when the wind was too rough, and I thought you might enjoy it,” she says. “I know you like the mystery ones.”

 

“Oh, nice,” Beau says. “Thank you.”

 

She hands an envelope to Jester next, and the blue tiefling opens it immediately. Inside is a postcard with a large city printed on the picture side. She admires it a moment before she flips it over. “A recipe! Oh, Yasha!”

 

“I tried to describe it as best I could, but I am not a chef, so I don’t know how accurate it is…” she says, “but maybe you will be able to do something with it.”

 

Jester gives her a tight hug which catches Yasha off guard. She pats Jester’s back after a moment. “When I figure it out, I’ll make a dozen _just for you_.”

 

“Molly’s in the back,” Beau says, and Yasha nods, walking past them as soon as she hears that.

 

“So,” Yasha says when she sees him clearing out boxes of odds and ends into wherever they belong.

 

“Yasha!” he brightens instantly and comes to wrap her in a hug, which she accepts in much less time than it took her with Jester. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.”

 

“I had to come,” she says, squeezing him. “You haven’t sounded well.”

 

“I’m making a mess,” he admits when he lets her go, “and I don’t know what to do about it.”

 

“It’s okay, I’m here now,” she says. “You’re not in it alone anymore.”

 

He hugs her again and just stays there, hanging off of her. He feels limp and tired in her arms, so she lets him be for a while, when he pulls back, his eyes are a little foggy. “I missed you.”

 

“I missed you, too,” she says. “I always miss you, you know?”

 

“I’m lucky for that.”


	4. Tea

After Yasha’s arrival, Molly is finally able to get enough sleep. The dark circles fade from beneath his eyes, and everyone breathes a sigh of relief. The weather that had been chasing her catches up a day later, and rolls the streets in rivers of rain. She can say it was what she heard in Molly’s voice that made her return, but it was the storm that told her to go home. She’d never be able to explain that to anyone but Molly, and she doesn’t have to. He knows.

 

Sitting at the counter of the café, she never though anywhere would feel like home, but she’s starting to get that feeling here. Then again, maybe it’s just Molly. As he has said many, many times, soulmates can be platonic.

 

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to him,” Molly says, staring listlessly over the counter with his chin in his hands, elbows on the counter. “I don’t know how to do _any_ of this.”

 

“It’s easy,” she says.

 

“No…” he stares at her like she’s said the sky is green, like that couldn’t possibly be true. “No, it’s not. It’s really, really not.”

 

“What if I do it with you?”

 

“You mean like walking over there with me? No, I don’t… I still won’t know what to say,” he says, “and then you’ll be standing there next to me while I say nothing, and I’ll have twice the people staring at me, waiting.”

 

“That isn’t what I meant. What I meant was-” she cocks her head around behind them and shouts, “Beau!”

 

Beau comes to the café after they wait, staring down the aisle for a few minutes. “Yeah?”

 

“Would you like to see a movie with me tonight?” Yasha asks in a softer voice.

 

Beau stands there in shock for a solid thirty seconds before visibly shaking herself out of it. “Uh, yeah? Yeah, okay. Sure, sounds good…”

 

“I’ll pick you up at ten,” Yasha says, and then she turns back to Molly as Beau walks away, and he’s just as shocked. “Your move.”

  


\---

  


The feeling of Beau against her back, arms wrapped around her, is comforting but strange. She doesn’t want to think of her as the _wrong_ body, even if that is sort of how she feels. She had to buy another helmet. She never thought she’d have another person on this bike with her - that wasn’t the plan - not even Molly. Traveling without a care over the world is her gift to someone else, someone in the past that she can’t be with anymore. It wasn’t for herself, not at first, though she has grown to love it and _need_ it.

 

But Zuala would want her to be happy.

 

Molly has said that many, many times, and Yasha knows that it’s true - she always knew, from the moment she met her. She would turn in her grave if she knew how Yasha had been torturing herself since her death - blaming herself, wallowing in the guilt, doing everything they should’ve done together _alone_ and not enjoying any of it for the wonders it has brought.

 

Molly made it easier to break the streak. It’s always easier to convince yourself to do something if it’s not about you. Beau is interested, that much is clear, she hasn’t tried to hide it. Yasha thinks she could like her too, if she could ever get past her lost love - but she doesn’t know if she ever will. Still… it’s just one date. It’s just _one_ date.

 

“Have you ever been on a bike before?” Yasha asks after they stop at the theater. It’s hard to talk while you’re riding - the noise is as loud as a nearby clap of thunder.

 

“Nope,” Beau says, “first time. You’re really smooth with it. I always thought they’d be bumpier.”

 

The movie they see is a murder mystery, because that’s perfect. Yasha spends more time watching Beau than the movie, but that’s what she came here to do anyway. Beau points out the killer in the first few minutes, and of course she’s right - she’s always right. Afterwards, they idle outside in the night air, eating what’s left of their theater candy.

 

“You’re really smart,” Yasha says. “I never would’ve guessed who did it.”

 

“Uh, thanks,” Beau says, and she looks disgruntled - frustrated, but not with Yasha. “I’m not usually like this, I’m sorry. I swear I’m cool most of the time.”

 

“It’s okay, I think it’s cute,” Yasha says with a shrug.

 

Beau rubs her blushing cheeks with her hands. “Stooop,” she says, “I’m not _cute_.”

 

“You can be fierce and intelligent and also cute.”

 

“No, I’m the night, the darkness itself. I’m cool and interesting, not cute,” Beau insists.

 

Yasha chuckles, and she is glad that she decided to do this after all. “I had fun tonight, Beau.”

 

“Me too,” Beau says. “So, uh, you wanna do this again sometime, or…”

 

“Maybe?” Yasha says, and her tone is questioning. “I’m sorry, I just- I didn’t think I’d be going on dates again. I thought- you know, I was married...once, years ago.”

 

“I didn’t, no,” Beau says. “I didn’t know that.”

 

“Well, I was.”

 

“What happened?” Beau asks, and then continues before Yasha has a chance to answer, “If you don’t mind, I just-”

 

“She’s… she’s gone now,” Yasha says, and her eyes get a little teary. “She always wanted to travel like I do now, but… we never got around to it, and then…” she sighs, “then it was too late. I waited too long.”

 

“Oh...I’m...I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay. It was years ago, and I’m...okay now,” she nods to herself more than Beau. “I just didn’t think I’d ever- well, you know. I thought that was it.”

 

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, I mean… I know you travel a lot and that’s not really a great fit for anything serious,” Beau says. “I’m not expecting you to change your whole life around for me. It’s just a date.”

 

“Well, I am going to be in town for a while, actually,” Yasha says. “Molly needs me.”

 

“Oh, well… I…”

 

“So, we should do this again,” Yasha says, “and maybe not get into heavy conversations at the end?”

 

“I don’t know,” Beau says, “maybe we can talk about my dad next time.”

 

“You don’t like him?”

 

“I guess you’ll have to ask me on a second date if you want to find out,” Beau says, and Yasha smiles.

 

“I guess I will.”

 

Beau’s expression goes a little more serious again. “Listen, I know you did this for Molly, so don’t sweat it,” she says, “it’s cool.”

 

“It’s not _just_ for Molly,” Yasha says, “but...thank you. I was worried you’d feel like I was using you.”

 

“Oh, by all means, _use_ me,” Beau says, and Yasha genuinely laughs. “And I mean that exactly how it sounds.”

 

“I know you do,” Yasha says.

 

The drive back is as quiet as it can be with the bike roaring beneath them. Beau hands the helmet back to Yasha, but Yasha declines to take it.

 

“Keep it,” she says, “you’ll need it for next time.”

 

Beau tucks it under her arm, and they both stand there awkwardly in the half-light of the moon. All of the banter from the theater parking lot has worn off, and there’s a pressure to say goodbye how you’re _supposed_ to. Yasha takes her hand and squeezes it gently, and Beau suddenly panics, because this is way softer than what she’s used to.

 

“Well, goodnight!” she says, she walks in a brisk pace to the door and lets herself in.

 

“Beau!” Jester shouts as soon as the door clicks shut, and Beau yelps in surprise. “Beau! You didn’t kiss her!”

 

“You were _watching_ me?” Beau asks, her tone accusatory.   


“Yah, of course I was watching you! What did you think I was going to do?” Jester asks, then she peeks back out the window. “She’s still out there.”

 

“Damn it,” Beau says, and she opens the door.

 

“Wait! Wait…” she power walks back to the bike and Yasha, who is just getting her helmet on.

 

“Hello again.”

 

Yasha’s hands are busy with the straps of the helmet, but Beau leans in and kisses her anyway, just a gentle peck on the lips. “Jester is watching, so I’m gonna leave it there,” she says. “Unless you’re into that.”

 

“I’m glad you came back,” Yasha says, and finishes affixing her helmet before starting the bike with the foot pedal. “I’ll call you.”

 

“Gods, she is so cool…” Beau whispers to herself as she watches Yasha’s headlight fade into the darkness.

  


\---

  


When she gets back to Molly’s apartment, he is asleep, curled up on the sofa that is shoved in only a few feet from the kitchen space. His eyes open when she steps into the room, and he sits up, yawning. “I was waiting up for you, guess I dozed off.”

 

“You didn’t have to.”

 

He scoffs, “Never mind that. So, how was your date?”

 

“It was nice,” she says, and she sits on the floor to take her boots off. “I’m seeing her again, but we didn’t set a time for that yet.”

 

“Jester was texting me the whole time, so…” he says, and he stretches again, tilting his head to pop the joints there.

 

“So you already knew how it went?” she asks, and he grins _innocently_. “She’s cute.”

 

“ _Cute_ ,” Molly repeats. “Not the word I would’ve used for Beau, but sure.”

 

“Have you decided where you’re going to take Caleb?” she asks, and Molly is quiet for a moment. “Molly…”

 

“I know, I know,” he says. “I just… what if I waited too long, and now it’ll just make things weirder?”

 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” she says. She goes to sit next to him and puts an arm around his shoulders. “Molly, you always have a choice. You can always tell everyone else to fuck off and let you make your own decisions. My advice is just… if this _is_ something that you want, would you rather regret it not working out, or regret not taking the chance at all?”

 

“I’ve got another day to decide, anyway,” he says. “Tomorrow is the off day, and I can’t just...go to his apartment to ask him out. That _would_ be weird.”

 

Molly wakes up the next morning with a voicemail from someone he has worked for before, asking for a second seance, in a building that he has been before, which he doesn’t want to go back to right now. A quick check of his calendar confirms his suspicions - the moons will be full tonight and their patron is at play.

  


\---

  


Molly knows what he said to Yasha the night before; that it would be weird to drop in on Caleb on his day off, in his apartment building, without an invitation, but he’s _here_ already. So, he walks up another floor and to a door where everything changed very quickly. He stands still for a moment, and then walks away, back down the stairs. He’ll ask tomorrow. It would be too weird to drop in on him unexpected, uninvited. It’s _Caleb_ , he doesn’t like being spooked or interrupted.

 

He’ll ask _tomorrow_ -

 

“Mollymauk?”

 

Molly stops dead in his tracks on the stairs, and down the hall, he can see the redhead shuffling through his mail. “Oh, hi Caleb,” Molly says. “Fancy meeting you here.”

 

“I live here.”

 

“It was- never mind. I was just doing some work here, like I mentioned before,” he explains, and Caleb nods. He steps aside as Caleb moves up the steps, but the redhead turns a few steps above him.

 

“While you are here, do you want to meet Frumpkin?” he asks. “He is a bit less skittish now, though you will probably not be able to pat him, still. He is comfortable being admired from afar, at least.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” he says, and he follows Caleb back up the stairs. His calves are starting to ache from all the walking up and down stairs.

 

Molly takes the time to give Caleb a good look, since he has never seen him in more casual clothes. Caleb dresses pretty much the same for work every single day, but now he was downstairs getting mail in just socked feet, no coat, loose shirt and sweats, with his hair pulled back in a low ponytail - it’s just barely long enough to be there.

 

Caleb opens the door and they both step inside. The air is much different than the last time Molly was here, though the nervousness has remained. “Frumpkin, kätzchen, where are you?” Caleb calls into the apartment.

 

Molly can see evidence of a cat. A half-eaten bowl of food, toys strewn about the apartment- there’s definitely a cat here, but it doesn’t come for Caleb’s calls. Caleb sighs and pulls a can from beneath the counter. “This is the most reliable way to get him out of hiding,” Caleb says.

 

Sure enough, the cat does come out when the can’s lid pops, and he mews from the floor beneath Caleb’s feet.

 

“He’s beautiful,” Molly says, and suddenly the cat notices him. Frumpkin’s eyes flit back and forth between Molly and the food, clearly torn on what to do, and he makes an uneven growling noise in his throat, continuing it even when he starts eating, his eyes never leaving Molly.

 

“He does not trust anyone just yet,” Caleb says. He reaches down and gently strokes Frumpkin’s back. The cat startles and growls again, but doesn’t run away, so Caleb lets him be. “He is getting better, though.”

 

“Hey, Caleb…” Molly says, standing idly in the middle of the room, knowing what he _wants_ to do, but unsure of how to start it. He backs out at the last minute when Caleb looks up and hums in question. “Did you know Beau and Yasha went out last night?”

 

Caleb chuckles softly. “I do not think Jester would let any of us go without knowing.”

 

“Yeah,” Molly says. “Do you- do you wanna get lunch, or something? I just got paid, so I was about to go eat anyway.”

 

“Sure,” Caleb says, and he looks down at what he’s wearing. “I should change first, though, one moment.”

 

He leaves Molly standing there while he goes to his bedroom to get dressed, and Yasha’s words haunt Molly - _it’s easy_ . He can’t believe what a _fool_ he’s been. Frumpkin comes over to him, so he stands very still and looks down while the cat timidly sniffs his boots (he had to be dressed up right for his tryst with the occult, after all).

 

“Have you been keeping Caleb company?” he asks the cat, and Frumpkin looks up suddenly at the sound of his voice. Frumpkin makes a trilling sort of sound and jumps up onto the fridge from the floor. He lays down, front paws crossed and hanging over the edge, and watches the door to Caleb’s bedroom.

 

Caleb comes back a few minutes later, dressed more like usual, but his hair is still pulled back. Without thinking, Molly reaches his hand out for him, and Caleb does hesitate more than a second before their fingers are locked together. It’s a bit awkward to get down the stairs that way, but Molly will be damned if he’s letting go.

 

“So, where are we going?” Caleb asks once they’re out in the hall.

 

“Oh, uh…” Molly fumbles for a moment. “I don’t know, there’s a little tea and diner place that’s almost across the street from your shop.”

 

“The one that is between us and a graveyard?”

 

“That’s the one,” Molly says.

 

“I have been wondering about it since it opened, it’s just that having a place to eat in the same space as where I work is… convenient,” Caleb says.

 

“We both really have to start eating something besides pastries,” Molly says. “I only own really, really tight pants.”

 

Caleb chuckles, and then turns to the cat. “Kätzchen, will you be okay here by yourself? I know you usually have me today.”

 

Frumpkin makes an almost inaudible _mrrp_ noise and closes his eyes slowly.

 

“He is fine,” Caleb says.

 

They refuse to let go of each other, even while walking down the stairs, so it takes a little longer. “You know, your hair looks really nice like that,” Molly says, his voice bouncing off the concrete walls as they reach the last step. “I’ve only ever seen it down.”

 

Caleb looks back at him, his cheeks pink. “Ehm, thank you,” he says, “it is getting a bit long, so it was getting in the way today.”

  


\---

  


They are mostly silent on their way to the diner, just silently enjoying each others’ company and the feeling of their fingers twined together. Molly swings their hands every once and a while, and he does it more when he sees how it makes Caleb smile. Molly’s hands are warm, and Caleb feels like his have been cold since that night they spent together.

 

They finally part when Caleb pushes the door to the diner open for him. The “bell” that heralds them is more like a wind chime, but it’s not metal.

 

“Is that bone?” Caleb asks.

 

“Oh, I like this place already,” Molly says.

 

They take a seat near a back window that looks out into a small graveyard that is bracketed between buildings on all sides. It doesn’t take long for a tall, lanky firbolg with bright pink hair to come to their table. His voice is deep like the rumble of approaching thunder, yet soft in its tone.

 

“So what would you folks like?” the firbolg asks, and he takes a long few seconds to look at them, then smiles. “I’m Caduceus Clay, by the way, it’s nice to meet you.” He tucks the writing pad he had with him under his arm and shakes both of their hands.

 

“It is nice to meet you, Mr. Clay,” Caleb says.

 

“As for what we’ll have, please, anything that isn’t a pastry,” Molly says, and Caduceus chuckles.

 

“Oh, yeah, you’re the two from across the street,” he says. “Well, I’m glad things are going better for you.”

 

Caleb’s brow furrows. He would think that this man means the uptick in business because of the café, but… somehow he feels like that isn’t the case.

 

“Are those chimes bone?” Molly asks, pointing towards the door.

 

Caduceus looks back in the direction Molly is pointing. “Ah, yeah, my sister put those up,” he turns back to the two of them. “If you don’t want to pick, I can just bring you chef’s choice.”

 

“Sure,” Caleb says at the same time Molly nods.

 

The two sit a little awkwardly after Caduceus leaves. Molly isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do with his hands now. He knew what he was doing when he was tethered to Caleb, and now… he doesn’t. He steeples them on the table and taps his thumbs together.

 

“What sort of work were you doing today?” Caleb asks.

 

“Oh, a seance,” Molly says. “Same elderly lady as last time, she wanted to talk to her sister again.”

 

“Were you able to provide this for her?”

 

“I’m not actually a medium, but yeah, kind of,” Molly says. “I know you’re not supposed to lie to people, but… I’ve had people I _know_ knew I was full of shit call me back again. She’s one of those. I used to do readings for her sister once a week, when I first moved to town, so… my impression is pretty good.”

 

“If it is a comfort to her, I see no harm in it,” Caleb says. “What about the exorcism, was that real?”

 

“Oh, _that_ was real,” Molly says. “You ever been flung across a room by the angry spirit of an abusive husband? Because I have. I got pretty banged up on that one… I thought Yasha was gonna finish me off when I got home.”

 

“So there really was a ghost in the building…”

 

“Yeah, but it was a recent one,” Molly says. “I’m pretty sure his wife killed him, but whatever. He cracked my head against the tub, so I don’t exactly feel bad for banishing him to the hells or wherever he went.”

 

“Oh,” Caleb says, and he’s quiet long enough for Caduceus to bring out tea and something that is decidedly _not_ pastries, though Molly isn’t really sure what it is other than delicious-smelling.

 

“Let me know what you think,” Caduceus says to them both, and then he mouths to Molly, “Good luck.” Without another word, he walks away.

 

“He’s weird, I like him,” Molly says.

 

“You have led a very interesting life, Mollymauk,” Caleb says. The way he says the full name never fails to make Molly’s heart flutter.

 

“Whatever could you mean?” Molly says with a grin. “Ah, the exorcism was nothing. That carnival down on the pier was fucking _haunted_. Especially the carousel.”

 

“It closed down recently, ja?”

 

“Yeah, I worked there for a long time before… I was sad to see it go, but I mean… it _was_ a safety hazard,” Molly says. “I was on the set-up and break-down team, so I saw a lot of cursed shit when we shut down every night. Around sunset, everything got really weird.”

 

“You were on the set-up team?” Caleb asks, and Molly nods. “But you are… look at you.”  
  
“Yes?” Molly asks, giving Caleb a toothy grin and propping his chin on his palm. “I’m what, Mr Caleb?”   


“You are, ehm, you are a superstar? When you said you worked for a carnival, I assumed that meant you were on stage,” Caleb says. “I have trouble imagining you anywhere else…”

 

“Well, I was working on some things, but I hadn’t gotten them down yet,” Molly says. “One of the winners was sword swallowing.”

 

Caleb, who was taking a drink of tea when Molly began that sentence, _chokes_. He sets the cup down and coughs, then clears his throat. His face is beet red again, and Molly revels in it.

 

“Wouldn’t be hearing any of that from me,” Molly continues.

 

Caleb starts _giggling_ at that, completely unable to help himself. The sound of his laughing makes Molly’s heart flip, and he’s so proud of himself for bringing it out. When Caleb calms, his voice is higher when he speaks, “Molly, I-” he has to bite back a grin, “I am not sure how to follow that.”

 

“I guess I couldn’t be the headliner, then,” Molly says, shrugging.

 

“Ja, no, you would want to end the show with a climax, for sure.”

 

“ _Caleb_ ,” Molly gasps in mock horror. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

 

The banter continues back and forth for a while, long after the plates are cleared and their cups are empty and refilled. They step out into the beginning of a sunset, and Molly is amazed at how much the colors match with Caleb’s blue eyes, red hair, and pink cheeks. He has never seen the redhead smile as much as he has this afternoon. Molly isn’t happy that he needs to call a cab and go home, but he has to let Caleb go take care of his cat eventually.

 

“I had fun today,” Molly says. “Thank you for, you know… I guess, waiting on me? I was being stupid.”

 

“It is alright, Mollymauk,” Caleb says. “When I said that you knew where I was if you changed your mind, there was no time limit.”

 

“I just felt like I’d ruined things, being so awkward the next morning,” Molly says. “I just… I knew how things like that usually end, and that wasn’t what I wanted - but I didn’t _know_ what I wanted, and I… panicked.”

 

“Have you figured it out now?”

 

“Honestly, not really,” Molly sighs, and he feels Caleb’s hand take his own and squeeze gently. “I’ve always played it by ear, you know? I never know what I’m doing next or where I’m going - I didn’t know what I was gonna do when the carnival shut down, I don’t know what I’m going to do tomorrow, but by the gods, feeling like I don’t know what to do with you was- you scare me, Caleb Widogast.”

 

“Oh,” Caleb says softly, “I didn’t realize I was so frightening.”

 

“Not like that,” Molly sighs again, deeper this time. He maneuvers Caleb so that he’s outlined by the backdrop of the sunset. “I mean like this, you’re the same color palette as the sky right now, and I don’t know what to do with the fact that I’m thinking that. You say my name and my heart starts beating out of my chest. I’m not used to this. I’m not used to being scared I’m going to fuck things up.”

 

He feels Caleb’s thumb rubbing gently against his, and the redhead’s face is flushed _so much_. “That is…”

 

“It’s a lot, I know,” Molly says, “but I’ve been overthinking this for a month.”

 

“There is really only one thing I can think to do with all of this,” Caleb says, and before Molly can question that, Caleb’s lips are against his. It’s just a gentle, quick peck, but Molly follows him when he leans away and deepens it. He can taste Caleb’s smile before he pulls away.

 

“Hmm, I think you’re right, but that’s not surprising,” Molly says. “You’re really smart.”


End file.
